


Choices

by Kiromenanz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Gen, choices done differently, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiromenanz/pseuds/Kiromenanz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry Potter is dead and the Dark Lord seems to prevail, Draco Malfoy has to make a decision. He knows what he is expected to do - but is it really the right choice? (One Shot during Deathly Hallows)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choices

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago and re-discovered it trying to dust my ff.net account. I used both Hp books and movies in this so you may find something that was said in the movies but not in the books and something said in the books but not in the movies right new to each other ;) hope you enjoy.

 

_***_

_"It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities."_

_Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_

***

 

"Draco!" he heard his father hiss, "Come over here!"

Draco stood.

He felt eyes on him. He knew what was expected from him, he knew what he was supposed to do at this moment. But he couldn't bring himself to move his feet. He didn't know why, but they sayed glued to the ground.

Not just any ground. The ground on the other side. And, when it came to his father, the wrong side.

He raised his eyes to meet those opposite him.

The same grey, he noted, but shaken with fear. He wondered since when Lucius Malfoy had looked so afraid. Where had the fearless man gone that did as he pleased? But death was a great thing to fear, Draco had to admit. It wasn't stupid to fear death. He himself had feared death a lot of times.

However he couln't bring himself to fear it now. He was unable to feel or fear anything at that particular curious moment, nothing but silent wonder. Not the good kind of wonder, no. The hollow, cold, empty feeling, the one that threw questions at him he couldn't answer.

He heard Dumbledore's word echo somewhere in his head. _"Years ago I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices."_ it said.

He didn't know where he'd heard it. He felt anger rise inside him. Everyone talked about making the right choices. What did they know? He had tried to make the right choices, hell, how he'd tried. But how to make the right choices if he didn't know how those choices would turn out in the end? It wasn't like the possibilities walked up to him and said "Hey, I'm right choice, he's wrong choice. So, who will you chose?"

He had made every single decision in his life firmly believing it was the right one. He had followed Voldemort because he had been convinced that it was the better thing to do. He had happily accepted the dark mark because he had believed it to be right. He had let the Death Eaters through Hogwarts and taken on the task to kill Albus Dumbledore.

But if he had been so sure that it was right, if he had been determined to do it – why hadn't he been able to? Why was it that when he had been standing in front of the old headmaster there had been that little voice in his head whispering "Don't"?

How on earth did they all expect him to chose if he wasn't sure himself? Those choices he had to make were not light ones. They were matters of safety or war, living or dying. One step in the wrong direction and he would be dead. And dead was a state one could not escape. You were dead or you were not.

And Draco had always prefered to rather be breathing than not.

But in the end, he thought, no one could life forever, could they?

No, he corrected himself. There was one who claimed to be immortal. And he was calling out to him. Why the hell was he hesitating? He looked at the Dark Lord, standing tall and proud and sure of himself. Now that Harry Potter was dead he had won. He knew, they knew and Draco knew as well.

But he felt no fear when he looked at this person. The creature that once had been a normal man, a normal boy didn't make him panic anymore.

He wondered why.

He wondered why when he looked at that pale face he didn't feel anything. Nothing. But pity.

_"... a boy who made all the wrong choices..."_

When he looked at that person, he didn't see the intimidating wizard. All he saw was a boy, neither old nor young. A boy who had once looked upon the world with innocent eyes and had then averted them. Had chosen his path just the way everyone did.

Two things occured to Draco at this moment; The first one was that, whatever may happen, for Tom Marvolo Riddle the most important person was and would always be himself. He didn't care if Draco joined him or not. He didn't care who it was at his side.

For a second Draco even asked himself why the Dark Lord bothered to learn their names.

The second thing was that he understood in what kind of a situation he was in. It was not about living our dying, he realized, if he had to die, he would die. Maybe those brief moments of hesitation had already earned him death. No. This decision wasn't about his life. This was who he would like to die as.

If he walked over there now, he would be like Tom Riddle. He would bet he boy that had chosen his own future, chosen to prefer the darkness in him over the light. He could have power, wealth - damn, he could have eternity!

If he stayed, he would be the boy that had changed his mind. That had chosen good over evil. But he would also be the boy that had betrayed his father and mother and everything they had lived for.

Just as every important decision, it was not easy. It was never easy.

That's when he comprehended. In the end, it all came down how we behave when we have to face the difficult times, the difficult decisions. It's not about who we're born as, it's not about where we grow up, whose name we bear, whose child we raise, whose friend we are.

In the end, it all comes down to our choices.

So he looked up and met Tom Riddle's eyes. They regarded him with so much coldness and cruelty that he would have gone to his knees and begged for mercy only yesterday.

But not anymore. No. Draco Malfoy raised his read and straightened up.

And stood.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) If you discover any mistakes please tell me and I will fix them.


End file.
